Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

It was not the first time th:;t Peter had helped in this -work,
and In- now b, lii ;
part without a \vord a single dinvt o
being said or
In thi! yt sirs tli -1 Pet r often thought of that I our.
It would come back to his mind like a picture, and his t'::oii"hi<
w.'iild r:>st upon it. For memory will often l>rin; bae'
wi-irh. \vheu ;
; -h ch..tterer, fond of hearing
his own voice : he se dom spoke to his elders or his superiors
till he was spoken to; but he could talk very well for his years,
and no boy living could give a more straightforward answer,
or tell the truth, and the whole truth, and nothing but the
truth, better than he could.
But now in the sacristy he worked on silently, knowing
what Mrs. Beauchamp wanted, and doing for her a 1 he could.
They draped the altar and placed the lights. The fine suir-
mer weather had covered the earth with (lowers, and never had
the chapel looked more bright or shown a more joyful aspect
than on this memorable day. Peter seemed to see it all, as has
been said, when memory reproduced this day in after years.
The roses some stiff and upright, and dark damask red ;
others white as driven sn >w; others, again, tr iling their smallleaved
branches, covered with the bright golden buds of tlie
yellow brier, and some blushing a pale pink of the most delicate
beauty. Before St. Joseph were white lilies, and geraniums
blossomed at our Lady's feet.
Then, in the midst of all, a tall young figure, wrapped in a
long gray sloak, the face hidden by a veil, walked quickly,
with noiseless steps, up the centre alley of the little church,
and Piter knew it was Lady Edith May.
She stopped by the bench which the family from the mansion
always occupied, and she knelt down where Colonel Penwarne
had been iu the habit of kneeling. Then she dropped her face
on her hands, and her whole figure shook w.th emotion.
She rose in a few minutes, and came on with the same rapid
step to where Mrs. Beauchamp was standing. Then Mrs.
Beauchamp point> d to the sacristy-door; and Peter went on
before her, while she waited for Lady Eui h. When Peter saw
those two enter the room, he was going to leave it by the outer
door; but Mrs. Beauchamp made a s gu for him to stop.
" You may be wanted," she whispered.
Lady Edith turned quickly 1 1 Mrs. Beauchamp; and Peter
saw such a sad f ce, it brought the tears into his own eyes to
see hers. She laid her head on Mrs. Beauchamp's shoulder,
and gasped forth these words, v,ik choking sobs between:
" I came to say that I think this afternoon I can't play."
It was Lady Edith who always played the organ on Thursday
afternoons: an organist from Treddington, a town six miles
off, came every Sunday.
"Yes, I understand. We can do without you," answered
Mrs. B. auchamp, in a soothi -g voice.
"I was afraid there might be a difficulty, because Miss Ap-
is
pleton from home."
Miss Appletou sang very well, a- d was able to lead the choir
without the help of music, and she always played t_e organ
when Lady Edith was away.
"O, we can do," said Mrs. Beauchamp. "I'll see to it.
We have many faithful hearts among our singers, and the soul
that is faithful can -always do what is expected of it."
This was not the first wise sentence that Peter had heard
from this good woman's lips that day, and he never forgo', it.
When memory brought back the bright, flower